Shine
by Liete
Summary: -UK/US, AU- 'Arthur couldn’t understand for the life of him why Alfred stayed locked up in a penthouse where no one would see him. It was a mystery he knew he had to unravel during his stay there.'
1. Chapter 1

**Shine  
**

**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: From the Hetalia kink meme****.  
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"_We regret to inform you that we will be letting you go."_

The last words he wanted to hear were the words that had greeted him when he walked into work that morning. Now he stared out the taxi window at the rain beating down around him and cursed his rotten luck. He was a much more efficient worker than anyone in that office had been, how was it his fault that his fellow workers had been pathetic lazy ingrates who incurred his ire on a regular basis? One of the twats must have gone crying to one of the higher ups about the tyrant Arthur Kirkland. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his briefcase. He wasn't a citizen, so he couldn't apply for unemployment, he was just stuck with a degree in literature and a now useless work visa. He had enough money to pay for his almost past due rent, and perhaps a few more taxi rides, but after that?

He fished in his pocket and pulled out his mobile, staring at the 'Kirkland' entry for a few moments. Oh, they'd love that, wouldn't they? If he were to call begging for money so he could fly back to England? He could only imagine the compensation they'd demand in exchange for such a thing. Perhaps he'd have the _supreme honor_ of loo cleaning duties for the rest of his life or worse yet, be the permanent nanny for that wretched little brother of his. No, the entire reason he was in that taxi in the middle of New York in the first place was to get away from his brothers and their love of abusing him. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing he couldn't make it on his own in a foreign country, after all. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and resumed watching the rain outside the window.

So he resolved, but he seemed to be right on track for that exact scenario to come to pass. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't very well depend on the charity of the Americans, could he? Not when they were so fond of portraying the British as villains in their ghastly movies, and probably thought him too pompous and conceited to need any help. Not that he wanted to admit he needed help to them, either.

He handed the driver his payment and thanked him as he stepped out of the taxi. Like a true English gentleman, he didn't need an umbrella and walked defiantly with his head held high through the pouring rain. He was going to make this work, even if he had to lower himself to more menial jobs.

The paper he'd discarded on the kitchen table was still there, but now he had a reason to open it up and leaf through the pages until he found the classifieds section. Four years of university and a resume most would kill for and he was resorting to the help wanted ads in an American paper. Once again he had to curse his rotten luck as he circled potential listings and tapped the pen against the wood of the table while he scanned the paper. He was about to stop the search and pursue the listings he'd picked out when one ad caught his eye.

_Wanted - Caretaker/Roommate. Rent included in salary. Please contact Alfred or Matthew Jones at 555-9356_

Oh yes, because such a vague listing would no doubt draw a smashing number of respondents. He snorted and reached in his pocket for his phone when he froze.

"Alfred Jones…" he murmured and tried to remember where he'd heard that name before. His eyes widened as he remembered those obnoxious women in the office whispering about the crazy millionaire living by himself in a posh penthouse overlooking Central Park. He had money to burn, but had never been seen in public before. He licked his suddenly dry lips and stared at the ad again.

"Caretaker slash roommate, is it? Rent included in salary…" He couldn't help but think of what a sweet deal that would be, taking care of some senile old man while he lived in a beautiful apartment. He could look for more prestigious work in the meantime, and who knows? Maybe the old bat would sponsor a green card.

If nothing else, it wouldn't hurt to try, and so he punched the number in his mobile.

"Yes, hello. I read your ad and I am interested in the position…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Shine  
**

**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: From the Hetalia kink meme****.**

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The building itself was modest enough. Large, but unassuming in its simple brick design. That must have been the whole point, though. It housed a crazy recluse, so it couldn't draw any attention. But with its prime location right on the edge of Central Park, and knowing who lived on the top two floors, he knew the inside would be anything but unassuming.

Arthur took a deep breath and stared down at his outfit. He wondered if he wasn't too dressed down, even though it was his best suit and his shoes had been shined to reflective perfection. Alfred Jones likely had exquisite taste, finely tuned from years of experience, and might find his appearance inadequate. It was too late to return to do anything about it, though, so he hoped for the best. He smoothed the lapels of his jacket and crossed the street.

He hadn't actually spoken to Alfred, however, it had been the other man listed in the ad, Matthew, who had answered the phone. He sounded rather young, leading Arthur to believe that he must be Alfred's grandson, arranging for a caretaker for his too senile grandfather. Maybe he wouldn't have to worry about impressing a dignified older gentleman, after all. He entered the building with renewed confidence.

The entryway of the building was also simple and understated, only a rather scuffed up carpet and ficus adorning the otherwise bare room. Not that those were of any particular interest anyway, not with the enormous man blocking the elevator. There was a pleasant smile on his face, which was partly obscured by the scarf he was wearing. Maybe it was his height and stature that caused it, but he exuded an intimidating aura. All the better to protect a millionaire, Arthur thought and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"State your business," the man said in the most saccharinely sweet voice Arthur had ever heard in his life, accentuated by his thick Russian accent. It was…terrifying.

"Ah…A-Arthur Kirkland, I'm Arthur Kirkland. I'm here to interview with Mr. Jones," Arthur babbled nervously. He clutched at his briefcase like it was his lifeline.

The man's eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. "Ah! Matthew told me you'd be coming! I'm Ivan! Let's become good friends, da?" He held out his hand and his smile spread.

Arthur gulped and hesitantly took the man's hand in his, hoping he'd still have his hand when he pulled it away. "P-Pleasure to meet you. I do hope we'll get along." For the sake of his poor heart, that is.

"Mr. Jones is expecting you! Go on, go on!" He ushered Arthur into the elevator, which he scurried into with a short nod. Ivan reached into the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse, then waved with that smile on his face all the while. "You'll like Mr. Jones. He's very special."

As soon as the elevator doors slid closed, Arthur let out the breath he'd been holding and clutched at his chest. He had to calm down or he'd ruin his chance for certain. He was becoming more and more convinced by the moment that this Alfred Jones had to be absolutely mad, and was beginning to reconsider taking the job. As soon as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open again all fear was banished.

Just as he thought, the interior of the penthouse was magnificent. The décor was superb, each piece of furniture a masterpiece, the tapestries and paintings adorning the walls likely originals, and everything was brought together by a clearly professional eye for interior design. Across the room were large bay windows showing off the astounding view of Central Park. Arthur, in short, was in awe as he stepped off the elevator.

A soft voice clearing its throat snapped him back to the present. A handsome, but unremarkable boy with blonde hair and violet eyes was scrutinizing him with a stern gaze.

"Arthur Kirkland?" he said a bit crisply after a moment.

"Ah, yes! You must be Matthew! It's a pleasure to meet you," Arthur said with a smile and held out his hand. Matthew stared at his hand then back at his face, his stern expression never faltering. Arthur's smile faded slightly and he lowered his hand.

"You're qualified for this position, I take it?"

"Yes, yes. I have four brothers that I looked after back home after our parents died, so I am quite experienced with cooking and cleaning, and I am quite handy with a needle and thread," Arthur said proudly, even if he wasn't so proud of how often he'd really had to do those chores growing up, even though he was only the second youngest of his brothers.

Matthew laughed derisively and furrowed his brow. "Let me clear something up here. If Alfred wasn't insisting that I attend college out of state, there would be no need for you to be here. I'd take care of everything on my own."

Arthur opened his mouth to speak in his defense when another voice interrupted them.

"Mattie? Is he here?"

Matthew sighed, his expression softening slightly, and he called out over his shoulder, "yes, Alfred. Arthur Kirkland is here."

Arthur furrowed his brow. Alfred's voice sounded so young, nothing like he'd expected, but it could just be that he'd taken excellent care of himself and still sounded several decades younger. Yes, that must be it. But then the source of the voice made his appearance and Arthur's jaw dropped.

Rather than a withered old man hunched over and barely able to walk, a rather dashing young man dressed in beat up jeans and some horrible American band t-shirt came bounding out of a room upstairs and gazed excitedly over the railing before he came barreling down the stairs. He had a good build, wheat blond hair, blue eyes like the sky behind thin wire frames, and a smile that shone brighter than the sunshine. Arthur felt like he was staring at a movie star and suddenly his palms felt sweaty and his face too warm. He shook his head and clamped his mouth shut. How foolish to be dazzled so easily, even if his potential employer was the very picture of aesthetic perfection.

"I'm Alfred! Nice to meet you!" Alfred exclaimed cheerfully and enthusiastically shook Arthur's hand.

"Arthur Kirkland," he croaked in reply, his well rehearsed first impression speech escaping him completely.

"Wow! He really is British! You were right, Mattie!" He grinned over his shoulder at the boy, who smiled fondly until Alfred's head turned back to the Briton, and then his expression turned stern again. "So you're gonna be my new roommate, huh?"

"Not necessarily," Matthew interjected before Arthur could reply. "We should have his background checked first, don't you think?"

"Naaah, why would we need to do that? You said he sounded qualified and besides! I like him already! Look at those eyebrows! Would a man with eyebrows like that be dishonest?"

Arthur's face turned beet red and he had to count to ten in his head to keep from strangling the American. He was sensitive about his admittedly large eyebrows and he didn't need some loudmouth American mocking him. That brilliant smile of Alfred's made his mouth go dry and any indignant comebacks die in his throat. He still hadn't said a word and could only watch mutely as Matthew and Alfred argued about him.

"Are you really sure about this, Al? I could transfer to a school here and you wouldn't have to worry about-"

"Mattie. Bro. I'm not going to let you ruin your future because you're worried about me. I just know we can trust Artie here," he paused to smile at Arthur, who swallowed. "So you go on and I'll see you at Thanksgiving! All right?"

Matthew ran a hand through his hair, giving Arthur a cold look, then sighed mournfully. "If you insist, Al. All right."

"Awesome! Don't worry, Mattie! Everything will work out great! Right, Arthur?"

"R-Right," Arthur choked out. "Of course, I'll take care of everything." He nodded at the men and wondered faintly what the hell had just happened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Shine  
**

**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: From the Hetalia kink meme****.**

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The events that followed were a whirlwind that Arthur only managed to catch bits and pieces of. He did recall that the two brothers seemed to be arguing about him more, and Alfred kept _smiling_ at him, while all he could do was clutch his briefcase and hope for the best. In the end, he'd gotten the job without having to show his resume or say much more than an occasional yes or no. Alfred had announced with badly masked enthusiasm that Arthur could move in whenever he was ready.

He counted himself lucky that the apartment he'd been renting was in the same condition it started in, so moving out was as simple as handing over his remaining rent, getting back his deposit and packing up his meager possessions. All he'd brought from England had been the clothes on his back, his wallet and briefcase, of course, plus a few suits and his grandfather's pocket watch, and the only thing he'd purchased outside of food had been a few more suits, all of which he carefully packed into his worn garment bag. He didn't bother to look back at the apartment he was leaving behind as he shut the door and headed down the filthy hallway towards the stairs.

It was raining again, and Arthur cursed to himself as he ran through the torrent of drops and hailed a taxi. Normally he wouldn't care, but it was his first day on the job, so to speak, and he wanted to look presentable and not like a drowned rat. He climbed into the backseat of the cab and, after stating his destination, peered into the rearview mirror and frowned. Even that brief time in the rain had made his appearance rather haggard looking. He tried to fix his hair and resolved to cover his head with his bag and make a mad dash for the door of Alfred's building.

So he thought, but the taxi splashed him with the filthy water from the street as it pulled away. He swore enough to make a sailor cry and glared at the retreating vehicle. Not even bothering to cover his head, he stomped into the building and tried to wring out his jacket at least.

"Hullo, Mr. Kirkland! Would you like a towel?" Ivan's syrupy sweet voice interrupted his woes over the sad state of his life, and a cold chill ran through him that had nothing to do with his sopping wet clothes.

"No, but thank you, Ivan," Arthur replied, and cursed the tremor in his voice as he hurriedly ran into the elevator.

"I'm so glad you're coming to stay with us! I hope you'll be here for a long, long time," Ivan said with that frightening smile on his face, and once again reached into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.

Arthur knew he'd have to get used to Ivan if he was going to live there, but that didn't stop his heart from nearly pounding out of his chest. He ran his hand over his face and took a deep breath. At least he didn't have to worry about botching an interview anymore.

The doors slid open and Matthew was waiting for him. The boy looked him up and down, and though his expression didn't change, Arthur could see the distaste in his eyes at his appearance. Arthur winced internally.

"Welcome home, Arthur," Matthew said flatly and held out his hand. "Here is your set of essential keys. One is for the elevator, so you can get to this floor without Ivan, and the other is for the building itself. It's locked and secured at night."

Arthur took the keys and furrowed his brow slightly. He hadn't even noticed the need for a key in the elevator, but then again Ivan had been the one to push the button for him. If having his own key meant that he could somehow sneak in and out without having to encounter the Russian man, he figured it was a good thing.

"I'll show you your room so you can change out of those clothes." Matthew turned and walked into the apartment, clearly expecting Arthur to follow.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Matthew," Arthur replied and hefted up his bag as he followed. Now that he could get a good look at the apartment, he realized it was even more fabulous than he had previously thought. Though the two inhabitants were young, they clearly had good taste. Arthur was impressed.

"Here you go," Matthew said, interrupting Arthur's musings, and held open a door to a room that was almost bigger than the tiny apartment he had just left. He could swear he saw a Monet original adorning one of the walls, and there was a beautiful statue in one corner. The bed was larger than anything he'd ever slept in, and no doubt everything was made with down of the finest quality. He could just imagine sinking into that bed every night. For the moment, though, he just walked timidly into the room and turned to smile appreciatively at Matthew.

"Thank you, I'm sure I'll be quite comfortable here," he said as he set his bag down.

"Hmm. Anyway, about what your duties will be." Matthew clearly wasted no time in getting down to business. "You'll only have to do the occasional cooking and cleaning. Alfred's a little lazy, but he's not helpless. Mostly you'll be running errands outside of the apartment. Shopping, getting the mail, going to the library, et cetera. You may have to make the occasional social call, as well. I tried to inform the appropriate parties that they should wait until I'm on my winter break, but with the way they tend to forget about me…"

Matthew's bitterness towards these 'appropriate parties' was heavily apparent, and England decided it wouldn't be wise to mention that the boy really was rather forgettable.

"About why Alfred can't leave the apartment-" Arthur started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Alfred's very fond of McDonald's, so if you want to make him happy, a burger and fries will do the trick."

Even though Matthew clearly didn't like him, his affection for his brother was plain as day, and he felt a pang of jealousy. _His_ brothers certainly didn't care about him like that. They'd sooner shove him in front of a car than buy his favorite food to make him happy.

"One more thing, don't let anyone up here. I mean it. Ivan knows who is welcome and who isn't. When you're ready, come join us for dinner," Matthew finished and shut the door behind him before Arthur could reply.

Arthur blinked and pulled off his soaking jacket. He was relieved to find that the clothes in the garment bag had escaped the fate of being waterlogged and he pulled out another suit to change into. To his great amazement, the room had its own adjoining bathroom, so he could take a shower and fix his appearance before he went to meet with Alfred again.

Alfred. Now he was a mystery. Arthur could understand an older gentleman, cynical and weary with the world, wanting to hide away and never show his face to the public again, but not Alfred. He was young, good-looking and clearly had a vibrant personality. He couldn't understand for the life of him why he stayed locked up in a penthouse where no one would see him. It was a mystery he knew he had to unravel during his stay there.

Arthur found himself, when he finally felt satisfied with his presentation, rather self-conscious when he went to meet with the two boys for dinner. Matthew's casual attire was fashionable, as to be expected, but Alfred looked like he had just rolled out of bed and thought it looked good. Maybe he had. But still, he was as pleasant on the eyes as ever, especially with the sunny smile on his face at Arthur's presence.

"Hey, Arthur! No need to get so dressed up for dinner, we're cool guys here!" Matthew huffed at Alfred's exclamation, and Alfred stuck out his tongue childishly at his brother.

"Of course. I'll remember that." Though he didn't have the heart to say that all he owned were suits. Maybe that would change in the near future if Alfred paid as well as had been implied.

He picked at his dinner, which wasn't the fine cuisine he had been expecting, and listened politely while Alfred chattered animatedly about anything and everything, sometimes interjecting a 'getting to know you' type question at Arthur. By the end of the dinner, Arthur at least knew that Alfred was twenty and loved hamburgers, archeology and enjoyed bad movies and bad music. Well, he didn't say they were bad, but Arthur knew they were when he listed off his favorites. As for Matthew, he was seventeen, a straight-A student who liked polar bears, and was starting his freshman year at Yale. Alfred said this all for him, since Matthew spent the dinner watching him with cold regard.

Arthur for his part mentioned that he was twenty three, liked tea and embroidering, and obviously that he had grown up in England. He felt rather ridiculous adding that part, since it had already been established that he was British, but Alfred didn't seem to care, and that was all that mattered, really.

All in all, he felt the dinner had gone rather well, but he couldn't help the lurch in his stomach as the brothers bid him goodnight. The next day Matthew was leaving for school, and his job truly began.


	4. Chapter 4

**Shine  
**

**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: From the Hetalia kink meme****.**

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The morning came too quickly in Arthur's opinion, and his stomach hadn't calmed down in the few hours of sleep he'd managed to get. It wouldn't do to 'call in sick' on his first day of real work, however, and he swallowed the lump in his throat, dressed appropriately, and went to greet the day.

He was greeted by a pacing Matthew near the stairs, who looked too sick to be short with Arthur. Secretly Arthur was glad he wasn't the only one who wasn't feeling well that morning.

"Good morning, Matthew. Lovely weather we're having," Arthur said pleasantly, somehow managing to mask the nausea.

"Good morning, Arthur. There are just a couple more things I need to give you before I leave…" He held out a few sheets of paper, which Arthur took and skimmed briefly. "It's the list of stores I patronize, as well as important contacts. Our personal doctor and such. My cellphone number's on there, too, if you need me for anything."

"Thank you, this will help me greatly," Arthur said, and he meant it. It would help if he went to the same stores, the employees of which probably already knew about Alfred's situation.

"And Arthur?" The Englishman paused in his reading to lift his head at Matthew. He was rather surprised to find an anxious, imploring look on the boy's face. "Please take care of my brother. He's an idiot, but he's all I have."

Arthur nodded mutely, shocked, then cleared his throat. "Of course, Matthew. I shall treat him with the utmost respect."

Matthew opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he was going to say was cut short as he was bowled over by his brother.

"Mattie!! So this is it! My little brother's all grown up and going off to college!" Alfred sniffled dramatically. "I'm so proud, I could cry!"

"Please don't, Alfred," Matthew muttered quietly and looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole.

"Well, your taxi will be here soon, so give big bro a hug and I'll see you off!" Alfred exclaimed, releasing Matthew so he could hold his arms open.

Matthew looked at Arthur with clear embarrassment, and the Briton decided it would be a good time to excuse himself.

"I'll just continue unpacking then. I hope you have a safe trip, Matthew. Good luck." He nodded his head with a smile and turned to leave.

"Thank you, Arthur," Matthew replied with a ghost of a smile on his face.

Arthur didn't have any unpacking to do, not when he had so few possessions to begin with. He settled for admiring the room's décor, getting lost in the paneling until a knock startled him out of his reverie. When he opened the door, Alfred was standing there with a bright smile on his face.

"So it's just you and me now, Artie!" There was nothing awkward about the statement coming from Alfred. It sounded more like he was looking forward to the set-up.

"Yes, I suppose that's right, Mr. Jones-"

Alfred's nose wrinkled and he scowled slightly, Arthur noting how wrong it looked on his face. "No way, don't call me Mr. Jones or sir or anything like that. Call me Al, or Alfred at the very least."

"…all right then, Alfred." Alfred's face lit up once more, and although he might not have felt awkward about the situation, Arthur certainly did. "I expect you'll want me to get to work then?"

"Eh? Actually I was thinking we could play some video games together! Get to know each other more, you know?"

Arthur couldn't help the flush on his cheeks and he mentally kicked himself for it. But Alfred was so unnervingly informal with him it made him uncomfortable and off kilter. "If you don't mind…Alfred, I was hoping to visit some of the shops you and your brother patronize. Introduce myself so they know I'll be working for you from now on."

Alfred's expression fell slightly, but he shrugged. "If you want. If you need to buy anything, I know Mattie has a tab set up at those stores that I pay off at the end of every month, so get whatever you need. Just don't buy a country or anything." He laughed boisterously at his own joke, and Arthur smiled weakly for his benefit.

"Then, if you'll excuse me…" Arthur said after Alfred stopped laughing.

"Oh right… Hurry back, all right?" Alfred asked hopefully as he stepped aside.

Arthur just nodded and quickly shuffled through the door before Alfred could see how red his face was. He's like a puppy, Arthur thought. Excitable and desperate for attention. Once again Arthur had to wonder why Alfred would hide away if he liked being around people so much. Not that he could just flat out ask Alfred that. It would be out of line. As he stepped onto the elevator, he noticed Alfred waving at him, and he lifted his hand to wave back, but then the doors closed on him and the elevator began its descent. Arthur and started to look through the papers Matthew had given him when the elevator stopped. He couldn't possibly have reached the first floor yet, but he got his answer when he heard voices outside the doors.

"That bastard acts so high and mighty and thinks he can push me around?! If I could, I'd put a cap in his ass so fast-"

"Big brother, please don't speak of Mr. Edelstein in such a way…oh!"

Arthur stiffened slightly as the doors slid open and two flaxen haired teenagers were standing there waiting for the elevator. The younger of the two, the girl, was dressed in what was obviously designer clothing, but the older boy looked like he'd gotten his clothes from a thrift store. They were clearly siblings, however. They both had the same hair and green eyes, and similar features, even if the boy looked like his face was frozen in a scowl. The girl bowed slightly as she stepped onto the elevator.

"G-Good morning," she said softly, a rather cute blush dusting her cheeks. The boy gave a noncommittal grunt and followed close behind her.

"Good morning," Arthur replied, also bowing slightly. "You two must live in this building, as well? My name is Arthur Kirkland, I'll be assisting Mr. Jones from now on."

"Nice to meet you… M-My name is Lili Zwingli," the girl said and then smiled expectantly at her brother, who frowned and turned his head away. Her smile didn't falter at all as she introduced her brother on his behalf. "This is my big brother, Vash."

"It's a pleasure to meet you two. I hope we'll get along."

"It must be exciting to work for Mr. Jones. We've never met him, but he allows us to stay here for a good price, right, big brother?" Lili turned and smiled at her brother, who once again just grunted and continued to scowl.

"That's wonderful to hear. Do you two live with your parents then?"

Lili's face fell instantly and suddenly Vash sprang to life, slamming his fist against the elevator wall and glaring wildly at Arthur. "That's none of your damn business!!" He snapped.

"Vash, it's all right!" Lili cried and clutched onto her brother's arm. He breathed heavily, eyes still shooting daggers, but with his sister hanging on his arm, he seemed to calm down.

"I-I apologize. It's not my place to pry. I really do hope we'll get along, so perhaps we can start over?" Arthur stuttered and waved his hands apologetically.

"Yes, of course," Lili said softly, but Vash seemed to think otherwise.

"You better watch yourself," he growled. The elevator doors slid open and he tugged his sister behind him without any further words.

"Hullo, Zwinglis…eh?" Ivan started to say, but Vash pulled his sister out the front door before she could say anything. "Ah…that Mr. Zwingli is always so grumpy, da? Good morning, Mr. Kirkland! Going out?"

Arthur, still a bit shaken by the Zwingli boy's outburst, actually jumped at Ivan's voice. "G-Good morning, Ivan! Yes, I'll be out for a bit!"

Ivan smiled sweetly with a nod of his head. "Take care then!"

Arthur ran out the door and quickly hailed a taxi. Oh, if his heart would just calm down! But now there was another mystery, concerning the Zwingli siblings and their parents. Was it just a building that attracted those with mysterious circumstances? Although he wasn't quite as curious about those two as he was about Alfred, he had to admit it was another tempting case to unravel and decipher.

The store he'd picked out was the grocery store, and although it hadn't been his original intention, Arthur decided he'd buy the ingredients needed for Shepherd's Pie. It was the least he could do for Alfred, and it might help start their professional relationship off on the right foot. The store itself was one of those family owned markets, and Arthur couldn't but think it fitting that the Jones brothers would strive to help small businesses. Arthur noted that although the store lacked the selection of those large chain stores, the wares were all top notch quality. When he finished gathering the ingredients, he made his way to the front, where a very calm-looking Japanese man was arranging vegetables until he spotted Arthur, then he went to his register.

"Good morning, I'm Arthur Kirkland. I'll be working for Alfred Jones from now on… I have a letter here from Matthew detailing the situation." Arthur held out one of the papers Matthew gave him.

The man gave a short bow. "Matthew-san already explained the details to me, don't worry. I'll just be putting this on Alfred-san's tab, I presume?"

"That's right, thank you. May I ask your name..?"

"Oh, forgive me. My name is Kiku Honda. It's a pleasure to meet you, Arthur-san."

"Likewise," Arthur said with a smile. It was refreshing to meet someone who had _real_ manners, and he knew he'd like shopping at that store already. "I look forward to working with you, too."

"Thank you, Arthur-san. Please enjoy your day," Kiku replied pleasantly and handed Arthur the bagged groceries.

Arthur made his way around the remaining list of stores to familiarize himself with their locations and to introduce himself to the employees, but he didn't actually buy anything. Things like clothes and shoes he'd buy with his own money. He stared down at his pocket watch and realized it was already mid-afternoon. He faintly wondered if Alfred wasn't lonely without him there, but then his thoughts screeched to a halt. What did it matter if his employer was lonely without him, really? He shook the blush out of his head and that's when he spotted it. A McDonald's. A surefire way to make Alfred happy was a burger and fries, Matthew had said. He supposed it wouldn't hurt his appetite to eat just a little…

When he got back to the apartment, he immediately heard a door slam open upstairs and shortly after Alfred appeared.

"Do I smell what I think I smell?!" Alfred leaned over the railing on the stairs and his face lit up at the sight of the McDonald's bag in Arthur's hand. He slid down the banister and stared eagerly at Arthur. "That for me?"

"Y-Yes," Arthur stammered and held out the bag. Alfred took it from his hands, then enveloped Arthur in a hug. The Englishman thought his face might explode with how hot it suddenly felt.

"Wow, Artie! You're the best!!"

"I-It's no big deal! I just thought you might be hungry after I was gone for so long and I-" He stopped talking when he realized that Alfred wasn't actually listening to him anymore, as he was too busy stuffing his face in the most obnoxious way possible. It took all of Arthur's self control not to frown in disgust.

"Whaf's in da odder bag, Ardie?" Alfred said mid-chew.

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur asked, unable to mask his disgust that time.

Alfred gulped down his food loudly and gestured at the bag of groceries Arthur was carrying. "What's in that bag?"

"Oh this… I well, I thought I'd make Shepherd's Pie for dinner. It's a meat pie we make in England."

"Oh cool! I can't wait to try it then! Lemme know when it's ready, all right?"

"Of course."

Arthur set to work immediately on what he swore would be the best meal he'd ever made. He couldn't make Shepherd's Pie quite like his mother used to, but he was rather good at it if he did say so himself. With the enormous kitchen and all its cookware at his disposable, he just knew he'd blow Alfred away with his culinary skills. He smirked to himself as it all came together. Sometimes he just amazed himself.

He set the table and went to retrieve his employer, who he found watching cartoons on the biggest television with the most deluxe speakers he'd ever seen. The American excitedly followed behind Arthur and eagerly waited for the Englishman to serve the food.

At first Alfred dug in with an enormous grin on his face, but as he started chewing the food, his smile vanished. He stopped chewing, looking desperate, then slowly chewed some more, then swallowed what was in his mouth.

"Eee-yuck. That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted! Did you cook with burnt, expired ingredients or something? Gah, I hope my taste buds will be all right!" He drank his glass of water in one go and continued on his tirade about how awful the food was.

Arthur, meanwhile, twitched with effort to keep his temper under control. He'd slaved over that pie and _that_ was Alfred's reaction?! Employer or not, that was completely out of line as far as Arthur was concerned.

"You…you ungrateful, bloody git!!!" he shouted, prompting the American to stop ranting and stare at him in shock. Arthur froze, realizing just what he'd done. Now he'd done it. He had completely stepped over the line and was most certainly going to be kicked out.

"Artie…" Alfred started to say, but Arthur turned and fled for his room. Maybe if he hid long enough, the whole thing would just blow over. Yes, that would work wonderfully. It didn't take long for his hopes to be dashed and Alfred knocked on his door. "Artie? I'm coming in all right?"

Sure enough, the door opened and there was Alfred, with an amused look on his face.

"Listen, it's all right that you did that. I mean, your food really did suck, but it's okay to tell me off for that. I don't want to be your employer that you're scared of, you know? I think it would be cool if we were more like roommates and friends than employer and employee. It's kinda what I wanted in the first place, so I'm glad to see you loosening up a bit."

"Are you serious?" Arthur said, his jaw somewhere on the floor.

"Hell yeah, I'm serious. I bet we could be good buddies if you'd stop trying so hard to impress me," Alfred said with a smirk on his face.

Arthur's face burned and he looked away. "Well, _pardon me _for having some class!"

"Klahss, is it?" Alfred said with a bad imitation of a British accent, earning a scowl in response. "You know when you frown like that, you have this unibrow look going on?"

"Oh-! Sod off, you bastard," Arthur fumed and folded his arms.

"That's better," Alfred chuckled and held out his hand. "So it's a deal then? You may work for me, but we'll still be friends."

"I'm beginning to wonder about that…" Arthur sighed, but unfolded his arms and took Alfred's hand to shake it firmly. "Yes, it's a deal."


	5. Chapter 5

**Shine  
**

**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: From the Hetalia kink meme****.**

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**

Arthur had to admit it was a relief to not have to be on his best behavior at all times, especially since Alfred continued to insist on being unnervingly informal with him, but he still erred on the side of caution regardless. Alfred _was_ his employer and not his colleague, after all.

Which meant he didn't tell Alfred what he _really_ thought about playing video games as a way of bonding, and acquiesced to Alfred's continual requests to do so. The man liked to win, and to brag obnoxiously when he did. It was after the umpteenth time of getting a finger shoved in his face with a chorus of 'fuck yeahs' that he finally _politely_ requested that he be allowed to occupy his time with other distractions. He felt a slight twinge of guilt at the kicked puppy look Alfred gave him, but it was for the best. He was too old and too dignified to be playing video games like a child.

With Alfred's blessing, Arthur used his free time to explore the vast penthouse. It was enormous, spanning two floors and the entirety of the building's floor plan. There were several guest rooms, and rooms dedicated solely to showcasing the priceless heirlooms the brothers owned. There was an expansive weight and exercise room (perhaps the reason Alfred seemed to be in such good shape despite staying inside), as well as a theater, among other things. It all seemed ridiculously excessive, but then again that sort of lifestyle seemed to suit Alfred.

The gem of his search was the library, as it was his version of a child in a candy store. A huge room filled with shelf after shelf of books stacked from the floor to the ceiling, and it was with a great deal of delight that he browsed through the selection before him. Some of the books were first editions that were centuries old, he noted in wonder, and he ran his hand over the ancient bindings in absolute awe. He knew where he was going to spend his free time.

Arthur continued to scan row after row of books when picture frames on a desk in the corner caught his eye. He could recognize Alfred and Matthew from that distance, but there were other people in the pictures, as well. He hesitated, wondering if it was any of his business looking at photos that didn't belong to him, but ultimately decided that if the pictures were on display, they were meant to be viewed. He stepped towards the desk and almost got a good look at the photos when Alfred's booming voice calling for him made him jump. He grabbed the nearest book and shoved his face in it as the door swung open.

"There you are! I figured you'd be in here…" Alfred trailed off and blinked at Arthur before a smirk spread across his face. "Didn't know you were into that sort of thing, Artie!"

Arthur blanched and looked down at the book he'd grabbed. The Karma Sutra. Of course. He sputtered and shoved the book back on the shelf. "It's not-- Don't be ridiculous-- I--"

Alfred laughed and waved his hands. "Whatever gets you off, you know? I won't judge you." He grinned as Arthur blushed brightly and looked decidedly away. "Anyway, I know you don't want to play video games anymore, but maybe we can do something else?"

Arthur turned to meet Alfred's hopeful gaze and let out a resigned sigh. Alfred got lonely and bored too easily. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

Alfred's face lit up instantly and he turned to leave. "Awesome! Let's get going then!"

Arthur shook his head in resignation and followed after the exuberant American. "That's quite the library you have, Alfred," he offhandedly remarked.

"You think so? I'm not all that interested in books, but Mattie is, so I kept them. Otherwise I'd probably just donate them to the local library."

Arthur's eyes widened and he stared incredulously at Alfred. "You can't be serious! Some of those books must be worth thousands! Museums would pay good money for those and you'd just give them away?"

"Huh. Really? Guess I'm not the best judge of the value of things, ha ha!"

Somehow Arthur wasn't surprised by that remark. Alfred definitely didn't seem to be the brightest fellow he'd ever met, but perhaps he didn't need to be when he was already swimming in money. Alfred led him back to his room, apparently wanting to play a board game of some kind, and Arthur got his first look at where Alfred resided. There were posters of awful American bands, a guitar slanted across one wall (a Rickenbacker, he noted), and other such decorations that were more befitting of a young teen than a young man. What caught his eye was the framed piece of paper near the door. Probably some video game contest reward or something. But then he got a closer look and realized what it was. A degree from Stanford University declaring Alfred a bachelor of science in biochemistry.

"Biochemistry?!" Arthur choked out in shock. Suddenly his thoughts of Alfred not being a bright individual were shattered like glass.

Alfred looked up briefly from the table where he was setting out the board and pieces for Monopoly, but went right back to his setup when he saw what Arthur was looking at. "Ah yeah, it was pretty cool being the only eighteen year-old in my graduating class. Let's play some Monopoly, all right?"

Arthur numbly sat down at the table and only played a half-hearted game until Alfred realized that he wasn't into it and let him leave.

Alfred had graduated with a degree in biochemistry at the age of eighteen. He was twenty now. Which meant it wasn't that long ago that he was a normal member of society. So whatever had happened had happened just recently. Suddenly Arthur was struck with the desire to look at those photos in the library, but he waited until Alfred was properly distracted with a video game to make his escape.

The photos appeared to be of a family holiday of sorts. In one photo Matthew and Alfred beamed at the camera while a roller coaster whizzed by in the background. In another, a rather attractive couple walked hand in hand along a beach and laughed at the camera. Their parents, presumably. They had unmistakably similar features to the two boys. But where were they now? There were a few other photos that were similar in fashion to the first two he looked at, but then there was one that featured another person he'd never seen before.

Matthew and Alfred were there again, Alfred overshadowing his younger brother in the photo in every way, but there was someone else. It was a girl, and at first he wondered if it wasn't a sister he hadn't met yet, but then he realized that she looked nothing like the rest of the family. They had wheat gold colored hair and bright eyes, her hair was so blonde it was nearly silver and had dark eyes. Where the Jones family was all smiles, she had a solemn expression. She looked familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly why. Actually, she looked remarkably like…

He didn't get the chance to think on it any further because Alfred's voice calling for him broke his thoughts again. The more he looked for answers, the more he found questions, it seemed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Shine  
**

**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: From the Hetalia kink meme****.**

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* * *

  
**

"Is there anything you can tell me about the Jones brothers?" Arthur casually asked as Kiku bagged the groceries hed just purchased. He'd struck up a friendship with the Japanese man, who was always pleasant to speak with, as he listened politely and only spoke when appropriate. They had bonded over a discussion that began with tea, and in the end, Arthur knew he'd found a kindred spirit.

"I'm afraid I don't know very much, Arthur-san," Kiku replied calmly. "Matthew-san didn't want to speak about his and his brother's circumstances. After what happened to their parents, I can't blame him."

Arthur perked up at that and quirked an eyebrow. "What _did_ happen to their parents?"

Kiku paused, looking hesitant, and then looked away as if ashamed. "I should not speak of things that do not concern me, but... It happened about two years ago and it was all over the news at the time." He sighed and turned back to meet Arthur's gaze. "The Jones family once lived in California, and were a very wealthy, very well known family. I do not know much beyond that, but it would seem they were a very happy family, as well-I'm sure you've seen how Matthew-san respects his brother. Their parents were on their way to attend Alfred-san's graduation when they fell victim to a carjacking that turned deadly. I...imagine they both took it very hard."

Arthur's eyes widened with horror and he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "I...I see," Arthur mumbled. "I apologize for making you uncomfortable, Kiku."

"Please do not apologize," he replied with a short bow and pushed the neatly packed bag of groceries across the counter. "Forgive _me_ for speaking out of line and ruining your day."

Arthur took the bag in his arms and shook his head at Kiku. "No, thank you for telling me, Kiku. Until next time."

Arthur numbly left the store and, needing some time to arrange his thoughts, opted to walk home instead of taking a taxi.

Was that the reason? Why Alfred felt he had to hide from the world? His parents had been on their way to his graduation when they died, would Alfred have thought it was his fault? And here he was, trying to pry into Alfred's life and nearly trudging up memories that would cause more pain. That didn't solve the mystery of that girl in the photo, but he couldn't very well ask about her now. What if she had died, as well? That would be quite the tactful move.

Although Alfred couldn't know the reason why, Arthur decided to buy him another bag of burgers and fries from McDonald's. An apology for sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

The apartment was quiet when he got back, and the silence struck Arthur as eerie. Normally Alfred would be there waiting, just like a puppy, for Arthur to return and, loathe to admit it though he may be, Arthur actually looked forward to having someone be happy to see him like that. A pang of guilt struck him as he thought of Alfred knowing what he'd learned from Kiku. He put the groceries away in the kitchen and set off with the McDonald's bag to find his missing employer.

As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, he could faintly hear the unmistakable twang of guitar strings, and, curiosity piqued, he followed the sound. As he got closer to the source, Alfred's bedroom, a voice joined the guitar. Arthur quietly eased the door open to find Alfred strumming at the Rickenbacker that had been adorning his wall and singing with force and conviction.

"This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!"

Arthur had to smile slightly at the performance. Alfred wasn't bad at all, especially not with the intensity he put into singing the song. He leaned against the doorframe and listened for awhile longer before he cleared his throat.

Alfred jumped and dropped the guitar in the process. He whipped around, face red, and laughed nervously. "A-Artie! I didn't know you were back! How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," Arthur replied with a smirk. "Nice song."

"Mom really liked that one," Alfred said sheepishly and reached down to pick up the dropped guitar.

That pang of guilt returned with a vengeance and Arthur cleared his throat again. He entered the room and thrust the McDonald's bag at Alfred. "Here. You may have horrible taste in food, but everyone needs a treat now and then."

Alfred's eyes lit up and any lingering embarrassment faded from his expression as he snatched the bag out of Arthur's hands and immediately tore into it. "Thanks, Artie!"

Arthur rolled his eyes at how disgusting Alfred was when he ate his favorite food, and he averted his eyes lest he gag at the display.

"Have you playing the guitar very long?" he asked, trying to make friendly conversation to take his mind off the revelation from earlier.

"Awhile, yeah," Alfred replied mid-bite, and paused to scarf down another hamburger before he continued. "Why? Do you play, too?"

Arthur blushed and made a point of staring at the very interesting U.S. flag on the wall. It had been a few years, but there had been a time where he'd been rather heavily involved in a band as its lead guitarist. That had been during his rowdier teenage years that he liked to pretend never happened, but he could never really forget the rush he'd feel when he had that instrument in his hands. "A little, yes."

"Awesome! Hey, let's play a duet sometime!" Alfred exclaimed and beamed eagerly.

"I-I don't even have a guitar here!" Arthur stammered and turned on his heel to leave the room. He had dinner to make.

Alfred followed and smiled that sunshine bright smile of his as he did so. "That's all right! Mattie told me there's an awesome music store around here! I'll buy you a guitar, how about that?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you." Arthur stomped emphatically down the stairs, intending to end that conversation.

Alfred slid down the banister past him and grinned up at him as he reached the bottom. "No way, you have to show me your skills now that you've mentioned them! Unless you really sucked or something."

Arthur gave Alfred a harsh look and folded his arms. "I'll have you know I was one of the best!"

"So prove it!" Alfred said with a laugh.

Arthur dropped his arms and cursed his pride for getting away from him. He had no choice now. "Fine."

The following day he set out for the "awesome music store" Alfred had spoken of with a great deal of cursing both himself and Alfred. The last thing he needed was to carry on with foolish distractions like playing a guitar, but he said he'd do it, and he still felt guilty about prying into Alfred's past, besides. He took the scenic route through Central Park, making a mental note to himself to explore the park more in depth at a later date, and eventually stumbled across his intended destination. Edelstein's.

When he entered the store, he was immediately accosted by the beautiful sound of a piano being masterfully played. A well dressed, refined looking man with glasses was sitting on the bench, eyes closed as his hands ran smoothly over the keys. A woman stood behind him, clearly entranced with the performance, and neither took any notice that another person had entered the store until the song was over. Not that Arthur minded, because the song was lovely, and the execution perfect.

"Ah, forgive me. I didn't realize we had a customer," the man said as he stood and adjusted his glasses. "Welcome, I'm the proprietor of this establishment, Roderich Edelstein. This is my wife, Elizaveta." He motioned to the woman beside him, who nodded with a warm smile. "How may I assist you today? Perhaps I can interest you in a piano?"

"Arthur Kirkland, nice to meet you. Your performance was superb, but I'm here to purchase a guitar, actually. Alfred Jones referred me to you."

"Oh, did he?" Elizaveta interjected before her husband could respond and eagerly stepped forward with a twinkle in her eye. "Tell me about Mr. Jones! He must be handsome!"

"My dear, this is hardly the time for this..." Roderich started, but she ignored him and continued.

"Are you the one working for him? What exactly do you do?" Her eyes were practically sparkling as she reached forward to clasp Arthur's hands.

Arthur blinked and snatched his hands back. "I'm a live in caretaker for Mr. Jones. I run errands such as this for him."

"Oh," she said with obvious disappointment and took a step back. "If there is any progression, you must let me know!"

Before Arthur could ask what she meant, Roderich spoke up again, clearly used to dealing with whatever his wife was talking about. "As you were saying, you were interested in a guitar?"

"Yes, and I understand you're the man to go to."

"It's been the family business for generations. You're in luck, I have just the instrument for the occasion...Vash!" Roderich turned to yell at someone in the back of the store.

Arthur's heart raced in fear when he saw who it was. Vash Zwingli, the boy he'd angered. Vash's scowl deepened when he saw Arthur, but he stomped over to Roderich and barked at him, "what the hell do you want?"

Roderich twitched and folded his arms. "Please bring Mr. Kirkland the guitar we received this morning, and hold the attitude."

Vash gave Roderich, then Arthur, a dirty look, which he was tempted to return, before he slouched away to retrieve the instrument.

Elizaveta sidled over to Arthur's side and said in a hushed tone, "don't be fooled. They act like they hate each other, but it's quite the opposite!"

Arthur wondered if it was possible for Vash to _not_ dislike anyone, but he'd simply have to take her word for it. She likely knew him better than he did.

"Here you are, _sir_," Vash said in a sarcastic tone as he reappeared and held out the guitar hed gone to retrieve towards Arthur.

Arthur ignored Vash's horrible customer service in favor of admiring the guitar he'd been offered. Acoustic, well made, and, plucking one of the strings, produced a beautiful sound.

"Yes, this will do nicely," Arthur murmured in awe.

"Excellent," Roderich replied with a satisfied air.

Arthur was happy to get out of the store, despite how pleasant Roderich and Elizaveta were and how nice it was to be surrounded by such finely crafted instruments, and away from Vash, who he was afraid would hurt him if he stayed any longer when Elizaveta offered to make him lunch so they could talk more. Armed with his new guitar, he made his way back to the apartment.

Arthur paused to regard Ivan when he entered the building, wondering if his theory on the man had any grounds, when Ivan spotted him and he perked up.

"Welcome back, Mr. Kirkland! Ah, you have a new guitar! You'll play for me sometime, da?"

Arthur had to work to suppress his twitch as he shuffled onto the elevator. "Perhaps sometime, Ivan."

Ivan beamed at him, but luckily he didn't comment further because another person had entered the building.

"Good afternoon, Miss Zwingli!" Ivan chirped at the younger Zwingli sibling as she stepped into view.

"G-Good afternoon," she replied and then blanched slightly as she noticed Arthur. She stepped onto the elevator regardless and clasped her hands together as the doors slid closed. There was a brief, uncomfortable silence before she spoke up. "Please forgive us for what happened that day, Mr. Kirkland. Big brother is really a very kind person."

"I'm sure he is," Arthur replied, although he was thinking the opposite. "There's no need to apologize, either way. I thought we agreed to start fresh?" He smiled at her, and was relieved when she smiled in return.

"Of...of course! Um, since I didn't get to tell you before...it's just my brother and I here, but big brother works very hard for my sake," she said shyly and fingered at her dress.

Arthur was struck by the girl's words and a realization hit him at that moment. She was dressed well, while he was practically in rags. He was working a menial job where he was likely chided constantly for his poor service. They lived alone in that mysterious building. Arthur realized that underneath that rough exterior was a doting brother who was doing whatever he could to make his sister's life easier, asking for nothing in return. He felt a slight twinge of jealousy at the thought, knowing his brothers would never offer such a thing so freely, always wanting something greater in return.

"Your brother must care for you greatly," he said more to himself, but she nodded in reply.

"Someday I'll do my best to repay him for everything," she said with a small, fond smile. The elevator stopped at her floor and she stepped off. She turned and bowed slightly. "Have a good afternoon, Mr. Kirkland."

"You as well, Miss Zwingli."

Perhaps that didn't solve the mystery of their circumstances, but he was too afraid of Vash to try to delve into that further, especially knowing what sort of secrets he might unearth in the process. He'd simply have to push his curiosity down and just be satisfied knowing that it was a couple of siblings working hard for each others' sake.

He was brought out of his reverie by his phone vibrating in his pocket. Thinking it might be Alfred, he quickly fished it out, only to scowl when he saw the caller ID. Kirkland. He didn't bother to take the call, and just stared at the phone until a new voice mail message popped up. He thought of deleting it right away, but curiosity got the best of him and he decided to listen. He recognized the voice of his younger brother, Peter, right away.

"Hey, jerk Arthur! Duncan, Rhys and Owen want to know when you're going to come crawling back!"

Arthur snorted and deleted the message. Never, of course. He wasn't going to go back to a place where he was treated like dirt and constantly kicked around by his three older brothers. Once again, he had to feel a twinge of jealousy towards the Jones and Zwingli siblings, who were close and cared for each other.

In truth, besides Peter, he was only half brothers with his three older brothers. His father had had children with three women before he had settled on his mother. Despite how his lovely and kind mother had accepted the three boys as her own, they had always resented her, and consequently resented him. She had died giving birth to his younger brother, Peter, his only full-blooded sibling. Rather than show him the same treatment, his older brothers simply chose to ignore Peter's existence altogether, or schemed to pawn him off on other people. He recalled the incident, shortly after their father's death, when they nearly adopted Peter out to a rather intimidating Swede. As annoying as he found his younger brother, he had intervened before the adoption could take place.

He was rather surprised they hadn't tried again now that he was gone, actually.

He was happy when the elevator stopped at the top and Alfred was there waiting eagerly, as it took his mind off the unpleasant thoughts of the dysfunctional family he'd left behind.

"So you really got a guitar! Fucking awesome, let's play a duet right now!"

Arthur chose not to comment on Alfred's poor choice of words and agreed. They made their way to Alfred's room, where Alfred grinned as he strummed at his guitar.

"Join in if you know this one, all right?" Alfred said and then cleared his throat and started playing.

"What would you think if I sang out of tune, would you stand up and walk out on me?" Alfred sang, smiling all the while.

"Probably," Arthur remarked and Alfred snorted in reply. Arthur knew the song, of course, and easily joined in the playing.

"Lend me your ears and Ill sing you a song and Ill try not to sing out of key," Alfred continued to sing. "Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends. Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends. Mm, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends."

Alfred really _was_ quite good, Arthur thought as he played along. Too bad he wouldn't be able to share his talents with anyone else.

"What do I do when my love is away?" Alfred sang on, not noticing Arthur's impressed look.

"Does it worry you to be alone?" Arthur sang in reply, and realized perhaps that it fit the situation quite well. _Did_ Alfred get worried when he was all alone?

"How do I feel by the end of the day?" Still oblivious to Arthur's musings.

"Are you sad because you're on your own?" Arthur sang, half singing the lyrics, half honestly asking the question.

"No, I get by with a little help from my friends." Alfred shoved Arthur with his shoulder at that moment, smiling brightly, as if answering the question. "Mm, get high with a little help from my friends. Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends."

"Do you need anybody?" Half asking the question again.

"I need somebody to love." Still oblivious.

"Could it be anybody?" Perhaps more than half asking that time.

"I want somebody to love," Alfred finished with a flourish and an impromptu guitar solo.

Arthur had to laugh, and then Alfred was laughing, too. Then they both broke into guitar solos, laughing and enjoying the music until Arthur abruptly stopped and froze.

What was he _doing_?

"What's wrong, Artie?" Alfred asked with slight concern on his face, and Arthur swore under his breath. He hadn't meant for Alfred to notice.

"I...need to be alone for a bit, if you don't mind, Alfred."

"...okay, I guess? Let's do this again later, though!"

Arthur didn't respond and left the guitar behind as he rushed out of the room. What had just happened? Besides him getting carried away like that. No, he didn't want to think about it. He'd just drown in a book and forget about everything. Alfred and his mysterious past, the Zwinglis, his brothers. Everything.

He skimmed the seemingly endless shelves of books in the library, trying to find the perfect book to read when he stumbled across a rather beat up notebook of some kind. He pulled it out and realized what it was as he read a couple lines. Matthew's journal. He slammed the book shut and was about to replace it on the shelf, but instead he brought it over to the desk and sat down.

Once again, he hesitated. He had no right to go through a journal that didn't belong to him, but his curiosity was a heavy weight on his back that he had to get rid of _somehow_. There may be clues to the identity of the mystery girl, or insight on what had happened to the brothers after their parents died. He swallowed, then flipped open the pages. The first entries were primarily about Matthews anxieties over not being noticed by anyone, and how he was constantly overlooked in favor of his brother, and those that _did_ notice him never remembered him later. Arthur merely skimmed those entries, not feeling right about prying into the boys deepest thoughts and feelings. He skimmed page after page until he finally came across an entry that caught his attention.

"Dad says that Natalia is going to be staying with us for awhile. I wish she wouldn't. Shes so quiet and creepy, and she never smiles. I'm afraid of what she might do. Alfred seems to like her, though. He's always smiling _that_ smile around her (you know the one). I hope it won't get serious, bad enough that she be here temporarily!"

Arthur's eyes widened as he read the entry and he looked up at the photograph again. He wondered if perhaps... He swallowed and picked up the frame, turning it over to open it. Sure enough, the photo was marked with the date and location of the photo, as well as the subjects of the photo. Alfred, Matthew and Natalia.


	7. Chapter 7

**Shine  
**

**By: Liete**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters portrayed.**

**A/N: From the Hetalia kink meme****.**

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**

"_You'll be a wonderful big brother, won't you, my love?"_

"_Duncan, Rhys and Owen are always so mean to me, why should I be nice?"_

"_Because the little one will look up to you, and you have such a good heart that I know you won't let me down…"_

Arthur groaned as his alarm went off and wrenched him abruptly out of his dream and into the real world once more. He sat up and glared at the bed sheets.

His mother… She'd be disappointed in him if she was still alive, he knew. He had never been the good older brother she had wanted him to be. He wasn't abusive like his older brothers were to him, but he was borderline neglectful, preferring to leave Peter to his own devices so he wouldn't have to deal with him than to keep an eye on him. Still, they were brothers and so he tolerated the little devil when necessary. It wouldn't have been enough in his mother's eyes, though. She wanted him to be the better person. A firm, but reliable and loving older brother who would be someone his younger brother would look up to. She hadn't wanted him to turn into his older brothers.

He was more like them than he cared to admit. Too many years of getting kicked around by them had made him develop a rather large sadistic streak. He learned to love being in charge, of having his own pawns to manipulate for his own amusement. It gave him a thrill to issue orders and then watch the worms squirm as they tried to meet his always outrageous demands. There was nothing like having power over someone, and he missed it.

Yes, his mother would most certainly be disappointed in him. He hadn't inherited her kind, loving heart like she had thought. He was there in America, not caring what happened to his wretched brothers, rather than back in England with a wife and children of his own, perhaps occasionally checking on Peter's welfare. Caring for each other. Like the Jones brothers did.

Arthur grimaced as he swung his legs out of bed and started his morning routine.

If Matthew's journal was any indication, the younger boy _did _harbor some resentment towards his older brother for getting more attention than he did, but in the end that was overshadowed by his love for his brother, clearly. He wouldn't go to such great lengths to protect Alfred from whatever was keeping him inside otherwise.

And he was still bound and determined to find out just _what _that was.

He adjusted his sweater vest and prepared himself for Alfred's cheerful greeting and near constant need for attention. He hadn't gotten the chance to read any more of Matthew's journal (a small part of him insisted that was for the best), because he'd been interrupted by Alfred again, and the energetic American had been more desperate for Arthur's company ever since he'd caved and played that duet with him. Arthur, meanwhile, had stubbornly refused to allow another act of weakness and informality like that to occur again, but his attempts to rebuff Alfred's clinginess were ignored.

Which was why he was rather surprised when Alfred wasn't waiting for him when he opened the door to the hallway. He frowned, wondering if perhaps Alfred was just sleeping in, and wandered out to make himself some breakfast. It was then that he heard faint voices from downstairs and he briefly panicked, thinking perhaps someone had broken in. He grabbed a candelabra and sidled along the wall until he reached the stairs' railing. It was then that he recognized one of the voices as Alfred's, but the other was one he didn't know.

"So, have you heard from her at all? Anything?" Alfred asked hopefully as Arthur turned and peeked down to see who Alfred was talking to.

"I'm afraid not, mon cher. I promise you that you'll be the first to know if I do," a blond with a slight beard replied with a sigh. Arthur scowled. A Frenchman. That day was just getting better and better by the moment. He scoffed without thinking and the heads of both men turned to stare up at him. He froze, candelabra still in hand.

"Mornin', Artie! What's with the candleholder?" Alfred called up to him with his usual bright smile.

Arthur cleared his throat and put the candelabra down on a nearby table. "I thought it would look better right here," he replied smoothly as he made his way down the stairs.

"Well, I want you to meet a friend of mine! This is Francis Bonnefoy, we went to school together and he was Mattie's tutor for awhile, too! Francis, this is Arthur Kirkland, he's my new caretaker," Alfred chirped as Arthur reached the bottom of the stairs and made his way over to the two men.

He didn't really want to, but Arthur held out his hand to shake Francis's. Much as he disliked the French, he wouldn't forget his manners. Francis took his hand and kissed it, saying in a unnecessarily seductive voice, "enchante, mon ami."

Arthur snatched his hand away in disgust and replied with no small trace of sarcasm, "_charmed_." He wiped his hand on his pants and turned curtly towards Alfred. "If you don't mind, I'll make breakfast now."

Alfred blanched and waved his hands. "That's all right, Artie! Francis is going to be staying here for a couple of days, and he already volunteered to make us breakfast!"

Arthur scowled when the Frenchman smiled and winked at him. "I'll just skip breakfast for today then."

Francis chuckled and tossed his hair. "I suppose a man with such prominent eyebrows can do nothing but scowl, non? Such a shame, you'd be quite attractive otherwise."

Arthur bristled and glared at Francis. He didn't care if they'd just met, he already hated him. "If you think I want you to find me attractive, you're quite mistaken. I'm not interested in-"

"Please," Francis interrupted with a dismissive wave. "Don't flatter yourself, mon cher. There is already a beautiful woman who has stolen my heart, I'm not interested in prickly Englishmen."

Arthur was about to give an angry, disbelieving retort when Alfred interjected, "that's right! Seychelles is really something!"

Arthur blinked and furrowed his brow. He'd heard that name before, but it couldn't possibly be the same person, could it? "The model?"

"None other," Francis replied smugly and rubbed at his chin.

Arthur scowled. "Well then, pray tell, why are you here instead of with her?"

"I am visiting my dearest friend, who I now see needs my company more than I thought. I can't possibly leave him alone with you, now can I?"

"That's it, you bastard-" Arthur fumed, but his attempt to get at Francis and wring his neck was stopped when Alfred stepped in his way and grinned at him, then turned to Francis.

"So how about that breakfast, Francis? I've missed your cooking!"

"Of course, mon cher. Please forgive my inconsideration." He smirked over his shoulder as he and Alfred made their way to the kitchen, and Arthur wondered how upset Alfred would be if he killed the Frenchman in his sleep.

He initially thought that Francis's presence, unbearably infuriating though it may be, meant that he'd be able to escape to the library and read in peace, but Francis had other plans. He'd apparently made it his goal to make Arthur as miserable as possible during his visit, and so whenever he was in the apartment, Francis wasn't far behind. Alfred was always with him, so punching that French bastard was out of the question. So he spent most of his time touring Manhattan and willing the end of the visit to come as soon as possible.

When it finally did, Alfred insisted that Arthur be there to see him off. Unable to say no to his boss's request, Arthur begrudgingly joined Alfred at the elevator the morning of Francis's departure.

"Shall we let bygones be bygones, mon ami?" Francis asked smoothly and held out his hand in a friendly gesture.

Arthur was about to flip him off, when Francis abruptly pulled him close and whispered in his ear, "Alfred is very dear to me. I will not tolerate any transgressions against him."

Arthur didn't get the chance to ask him what he meant before Francis was throwing himself on Alfred and kissing his cheeks. "Au revoir, mon cher! I shall return at Christmas to wish you and dear Mathieu a Joyeux Noel!"

"See ya then, Francis! And let me know if you hear anything," Alfred said in a meaningful tone, although Arthur didn't know what he was referring to.

"Of course," Francis assured Alfred and gave Arthur one last meaningful look before he turned and waved over his shoulder.

"Good riddance," Arthur spat out when the elevator doors slid shut and took Francis with them.

"Sorry about that, Artie," Alfred said sheepishly and scratched at his head. "I didn't realize you guys wouldn't like each other. But it's just you and me again, so we can hang out like usual!"

"Actually, Alfred, I need some time to myself after that wretched experience."

Alfred's face fell and then he pouted. "Well, all right, but you're gonna owe me big for this! It's October and we have to have scary movie marathons!"

"We'll see," Arthur said curtly and jogged up the stairs. He felt infinitely better knowing he could go to the library without any French or American meddlers ruining his peace and quiet. Or more specifically, his research into the past of the older Jones boy.

Finally, he thought as he slid into the desk chair with Matthew's journal in hand. He flipped the pages open and found the place where he'd left off. The entries continued to be about Matthew's frustration over his lack of presence, and the typical teenage angst, but then he stumbled across another entry of interest.

"Natalia keeps mentioning that she misses her brother, but the way she talks about him is really creepy. Alfred still doesn't seem to think anything's wrong. I think he's torn between wanting to be a replacement brother to her and wanting to be something else, something _more_. I'm still hoping that nothing comes of that."

Arthur raised a brow and wondered if Natalia truly had any significance in Alfred's hermit tendencies. One bad experience with a girl wouldn't drive someone to hide from the world. But then, that was just in his opinion, and he'd had his own fair share of failed relationships and didn't think much of them. Alfred, on the other hand, was so idealistic and naïve that he might have taken it harder than the average person would. Arthur mused on that for awhile before he continued his search for entries of interest. Finally, he came across another, but was frustrated to find that it was the last entry in the journal.

"Alfred did it, he asked Natalia out on a date and she accepted. He really doesn't find her as creepy as I do, and it scares me a little. He _really_ doesn't notice the weird way she talks about her brother? I'm afraid Alfred's in way over his head this time and he'll wind up in a lot of trouble if things don't work out."

Arthur gritted his teeth in frustration knowing that there were no more entries to elaborate further and possibly solve the mystery. He leaned back in the chair and huffed. He couldn't ask Alfred, who would obviously wonder how Arthur even knew about Natalia in the first place when Alfred had never mentioned her. Then he'd have to explain that he'd been reading Matthew's journal and it was a complicated situation he didn't even want to think of.

There _were_ many, many more books in the library, perhaps Matthew had left _another_ journal hidden in a place where his brother would never find it? It would probably take awhile to find it, but he decided he'd scour the books in the hopes of finding another beat up notebook full of a teenage boy's thoughts and feelings.

But in the end, Alfred's loneliness caught up with him, and he cut Arthur's alone time short to insist upon that horror movie marathon he'd mentioned.

Arthur agreed, not thinking much of it, but then he realized just _what _he'd gotten himself into. Alfred spent the whole time clinging to a pillow and shrieking like a girl at parts that weren't even remotely scary. He even latched onto Arthur a few times, Arthur roughly shoving him off and cursing at him each time he did so.

When the credits of the last movie rolled, Alfred sat trembling on the sofa and Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Although I had an absolutely smashing time, I believe it's time for bed." He stood to leave, but didn't get far because a strong hand had grasped his shirt.

"Sleep with me, Artie!" Alfred cried.

Arthur's face suddenly burned and he sputtered incredulously, "wh-wh-what?"

"Please, Artie! I thought I'd be okay this time, but I can't sleep on my own!"

"A-Absolutely not!" Arthur stuttered and tried to wrench his shirt out of Alfred's firm grip. All he succeeded in doing was making Alfred fly off the sofa and cling to Arthur's waist.

"Pleeeease, Artie! You can't say no to your boss!" Alfred wailed and clung with a vice-like grip.

"That's far surpassing the line of what is professional! You can't possibly expect me to agree!"

"Artie, come on!" Alfred cried and Arthur was about to refuse again when Alfred turned his head to look up at Arthur. His eyes were wide and watery, and Arthur couldn't help the pang of guilt he felt at turning down someone who could look so pathetic.

He sighed resignedly and slammed his palm against his forehead. "Oh, all right. Just this once."

"Thank you!" Alfred sobbed and stood up to crush Arthur in a proper hug. Arthur's face burned again and he pushed Alfred off of him.

"Oh, get off me, you git," he said and averted his tomato red face.

Although he'd agreed, he couldn't help but feel incredibly awkward after he'd changed into his pyjamas and returned to Alfred's room to sit uncomfortably on the edge of his enormous bed.

Alfred was much more eager to crawl into bed and give Arthur an imploring look. "Don't you dare fall asleep before me!"

Arthur thought that Alfred wouldn't have to worry about that in the slightest, as he was certain he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night period. Still, as he stared at the ceiling, he stubbornly pushed down thoughts that he wasn't nearly as uncomfortable where he was as he supposed he should have been.


End file.
